


Broken

by iLurked



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Written pre 1x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1467520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iLurked/pseuds/iLurked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can he help her put herself back together when he was as broken as she was?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

“How is she?” Skye was the first one to burst into the Triskelion’s medibay where Agents Coulson and May were waiting for them.

Right behind her was Ward. “What happened?”

“She’s fine,” May tried to reassure the younger agents. “Just shaken up.”

“There was an incident in the lab.” Coulson looked like he had aged ten years in the span of three hours.

Later, Ward found out that the “incident in the lab” involved an agent with a high clearance level sneaking in a handgun into the laboratory. After locking and jamming the controls of the door, the rogue agent started shooting the scientists inside one by one while the horrified staff looked on from the outside. By some twist of fate, Simmons had been inside, visiting colleagues. After killing everyone in the room but Simmons, the rogue scientist turned the gun onto himself and fired, leaving her the sole survivor of the laboratory massacre which left eight, including the gunman, dead.

Simmons was unharmed but shook up, but none of the team was able to talk to her yet because right after she was checked by a medic, she was squirrelled away in one of the interrogation rooms.

When Coulson loudly and lengthily protested, he and his team were escorted into a secure room where Director Fury and Agent Hill were in to watch the video-streaming of Simmons’ interrogation.

No, she did not personally know the rogue agent. No, she did not know why she was spared. Yes, it was a coincidence that she was there when the agent arrived. Yes, she knew most of the scientists that were shot and killed. No, she did not know what project they were working on. No, the rogue agent did not say anything before he started shooting.

And so forth.

Ward had balled his fists so hard that they turned white. He had watched the footage of the incident. He saw how Jemma had dived towards the first shooting victim to administer first aid after recovering from her initial shock. He saw how instead of cowering or ducking for cover, she cried and begged for the gunman to stop. Ward was thankful that she was largely ignored until that final moment that the gunman ran out of victims. Then, the gunman walked slowly towards Simmons who was trying in vain to staunch the flow of the blood of one of the victims. The rogue agent stood in front of her and waited until she met his eyes. He slowly raised the gun to his temple. Simmons had cried out for him to stop, but he had fired his gun.

Skye was screaming at Fury and Hill that they could not possibly think that Jemma had something to do with the incident. May was quiet, but the lines on her face indicated her displeasure at subjecting the young agent into more trauma than she had already suffered. Fitz, who was across the Atlantic on a furlough, kept calling every minute, wanting to talk to his friend, to no avail.

All because protocols were protocols.

Five hours after the incident, Simmons was finally released.

She was pale, drawn, the light that used to burn brightly inside her extinguished. “I’m fine,” she was quick to assure her team, even managing a small smile for their benefit.

“Jemma,” Skye stood up and tried to give the scientist a comforting hug, but she was rebuffed.

“If you don’t mind,” Simmons said apologetically. “I just want to go into my bunk and sleep.”

Ward was tasked to drive Simmons back to the Bus. Coulson and Skye were to finish the paperwork that would finally make the hacker into a real agent: the reason why they were at the Triskelion in the first place. May opted to stay with them, to escort them home (and probably because she wanted to make sure that no other incident would affect her teammates).

Jemma was silent all the way back to the Bus, which was so unlike her. Usually, during the rare times she and Ward were alone, she chattered ceaselessly, not out of desperation to fill the awkward silence between them, but because she genuinely wanted to connect with him.

Now that they were back at the Bus, Ward wanted nothing but to go down to the training room and pound the stuffing out of the punching bag in a futile attempt to shake off his feelings of frustration and helplessness. Unfortunately, after he had changed into his workout gear, he had crossed paths with Simmons who was on her way to the shower. Then, he received a text message from an angry Fitz who commanded Ward to talk to Simmons and make sure she’s okay, goddammit.

An hour later, Ward was still waiting for Simmons to finish her shower. The continuous sound of falling water was beginning to alarm him.

He was about to knock and ask if she was okay when the water was abruptly cut off. A few minutes later, the door opened to reveal a red-eyed Simmons clad in her pajamas. Her hair fell in wet strings over her shoulder, water dripping down her top and onto the floor. Her hands looked scrubbed raw.

“Simmons,” Ward cleared his throat feeling woefully inadequate for the task on which he was now to undertake. For the first time, he wished he had Skye’s capacity to find the right words; Coulson’s ability to be reassuring without trying; Fitz’s familiarity; or even May’s inner strength. Unfortunately, he was just Ward who was only good when pointed to a target.

“I’m fine, Ward,” Jemma insisted. The slump of her shoulders and the defeated look in her eyes belied her claim.

Ward planted himself right on her path, unwilling to let her hole up alone inside her bunk.

“Ward,” she pleaded desperately. “Just let me through.”

Slowly, Ward reached for her. He pulled her to him, enveloped her in the cocoon of his arms.

Simmons resisted at first, before she buried her head on his chest. A few tears escaped, tears that refused to fall during the incident, during the interrogation, or even during her solitude in the bathroom. Soon, the few drops turned into torrents, and then she found herself openly weeping, drenching Ward’s shirt with her tears.

She cried while Ward held her, comforted her without words.

Later, they made it to the sofa where the feelings that were overwhelming her made their way out.

Ward simply held her and listened.

And that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompt: Jemma has been trying to resist the urge of Grant Ward, but fails and must tell him of her feelings because they are overbearing.


End file.
